Chapter Text
Once upon a time, there was a cunt. A cunt named pride- and, well, Pico might as well be married to it. Now, Pico was no stranger to people taking his pride and completely curb stomping it. He was somewhat of a street rat after all; that meant he had to learn how to take what he dished out the hard way. Nonetheless, his pride was something he tried his best to protect. He had to protect his reputation after all, if not for himself, but to protect the image of himself to others. And pride- pride was just one way to flaunt. Flaunt what? Well, clearly not his rapping skills. Not anymore, at least.
Boyfriend, in a sense, had just kicked Pico's imaginary dog, shot his parents, lit his house on fire, then personally ripped out the ginger's metaphoric heart and crushed it in his hand- all right in front of him. His pride was pretty much in the gutter, swirling down the drain as he heard the blue boy rap- hitting and spitting bars like there was no tomorrow. His beat flowed so majestically, the twerp might as well have bent Shakespeare over and made him his bitch.
'What the fuck is this blue berry balling bitch on? Ain' no GODDAMN motherfuckin' WAY this kid is beatin' me right now.'
As much as Pico wanted to cuss out the shorter boy right in front of him who was currently garnering the entire crowd of the party's attention, he really couldn't find it in himself. While Pico wasn't entirely religious, at this point, he was praying to whatever deity would listen to whisk him away this instant so he wouldn't have to deal with the fact that he was literally being out-rapped by some kid he had just met. At this point, he was starting to find some ungodly reasoning in Nene's suicidal nature.
Unluckily for him- and luckily- a deity apparently heard his call. Or, at least Darnell did. While Pico was just standing there, clearly flabbergasted and stuck in a sort of trance as the boy delivered a final line that made the crowd erupt into approval, Pico had his wrist grabbed and was quickly pulled off-stage. While the music continued to roar, they threaded through the surprisingly thoroughly packed party into a more isolated space in the far back of the alleyway it was all taking place.
"Pico. Earth to Pico?" Darnell snapped his fingers in front of the ginger's face- then ultimately just pulled out his lighter to wave the fire in front of his face. The heat warmed Pico's face, snapping him out of his lost-rap-battle-induced trance. "Yeah, yeah. 'M here." He winced a little at the sudden heat, waving his hand and leaning back away from the flame still lit in the other boy's hand. Darnell spoke fairly breathy, letting out a somewhat disgruntled sigh. "Fuckin' hell man. You were totally blue-balled back there." Pico scoffed, snatching Darnell's lighter in an instant. "'S not my fault. That twerp had the crowd in a chokehold. I probably couldn't win them back if I tried. Seems alcohol does really mess with your perception."
Both Pico and the un-named rapper had gone on for about two rounds, and the most recent being the third. The first two, they had gone back and forth, but he was totally crushed by the third. He needed a break- and he was lucky Darnell was just as good a friend to Pico as Darnell is to pyrotechnics and fire. Pico's eyes dragged across Darnell for a moment- noticing the unkempt afro, purple torso and yellow sleeved baggy hoodie he's worn since freshman year, the headphones that hugged his neck lazily, and even the stupid smug smirk that tugged his lips to one side of his face and showed some of his teeth. "For someone with 4 years of experience y're f'sure sure bad at showin' it, leprechaun." Darnell chuckled, interrupting Pico's train of thought. "Fuck off." He murmured as he stuck a cigarette from his pocket into his mouth and lit it with Darnell's lighter he snatched.
"Pico, your losing yer grip. Get it together." The just slightly taller boy lectures, snatching back his lighter from Pico. "I don't even know that damn kid's name." Pico grumbles under his breath, taking a drag of his cigarette. "Boyfriend." Darnell replies calmly, stuffing the lighter back in his pocket. Pico stood there in wonder and surprised, his eyes immediately shooting at Darnell's- who's currently just reading the ingredients label of the spray paint can in his hand- searching for any hint of satire. "Boyfriend?" He echoed, scoffing incredulously. "Not shitting ya man. Boyfriend." He repeats himself, now just leaning against the wall of the alley and meeting Pico's somewhat flustered gaze.
The crowd around Boyfriend had simmered down at this point, as people returned to their regular party activities, more people took Boyfriends- and what used to be- Pico's place on stage. The music continued, rekindling the spirit of it all. Darnell bopped his head gently along with the beat, his tempo just about as on point as you could get with alcohol and nicotine in your system. Wherever that blue-haired freak had pissed off to wasn't important to Pick- more so how the hell he got beat by him, and how the hell he was going to fix his pride after this one. He was damn sure flex tape couldn't even patch this up.
"I'm gon' head out. Nene's gonna bitch and moan if I'm not there in time to pick 'er up." Darnell shrugged himself off the wall of the alley, grabbing the keys in his pocket. She got her license temporarily revoked, and Darnell's practically been her chaperone since for any "extra-curricular" activities. Pico nodded his head and hummed, taking a puff before coughing out a simple alright. The second that part-time terrorist vanished amidst the crowd- Boyfriend seemed to replace him immediately. Pico's eyes widened then he groaned and facepalmed, even grumbling. "Well fuck me sideways." "I can't, I have a girlfriend, anyways-" What? He pulled his hand away from his face to look at the now cheerfully rambling neptune-colored ass guy. 'Did he think I was being fuckin' serious?' He was missing Darnell already.
Finally out of his own thoughts, Pico felt he ought to at least try to pay attention to see if it'd give him any clue as to just who the hell this Boyfriend person was. Especially as to why they're like *this*. The urge to shoot him was strong.